


Thirty-Six

by Fruipit



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Discord: Elsanna Shenanigans (Disney), Elsanna Shenanigans Discord Monthly Contest (Disney), F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Incest, implied history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28745811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fruipit/pseuds/Fruipit
Summary: Elsa returns to her childhood home, bringing with her memories that she'd really rather forget; Anna returns to her childhood home, bringing with her feelings that she'd really rather share.
Relationships: Anna/Elsa (Disney)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23
Collections: Elsanna Shenanigans Monthly Contests Submissions





	Thirty-Six

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the ES December monthly contest. I hope you like it! :)

As Elsa looks over the white expanse of snow covering the dreary streets of her hometown, she's transported to the past – to a time where she would once wake up and, upon witnessing such magic, would race to Anna's room and wake her up (because "the fresh powder wouldn't last forever, Anna," and "the sky's away and _I'm_ awake, so let's play!") so that they could roll around in unconstrained glee, building up their relationship as surely as they would build up snowman after snowman after snowman.

And then, inevitably, just as snowmen thaw in the spring, so too did their relationship, and Elsa found herself pulling away; drifting, as it were, like the seasons, so soft and smooth that one doesn't always quite notice that it's moved on until it's time to put the jumpers away and open the windows.

A knock on the door pulls her from her thoughts, and she turns to come face-to-face with that same sister, effortlessly invading her space just like she's so easily invaded Elsa's mind and thoughts for the better part of a decade.

"Hey, Sis," she says, sauntering, and Elsa bristles because intolerance and frustration is all she really has now. "Wow, it's been a while."

By choice, by design, though Elsa does wonder if it ever really were an option – being a while, that is.

Anna doesn't approach, instead just tilting her head to indicate through the window as she says, in a voice so weary Elsa knows that she's spent all evening driving here and hasn't slept a wink, "You look… _really_ good. New gym? Diet? Boyfriend?

She should sleep, Elsa finds herself thinking, before casting that thought to the side like an old, well-worn shirt: comfortable, and yet entirely inappropriate.

"You should sleep," come the words anyway, unbidden and unwelcome, and Anna's gaze softens in a way that sends flares ricochetting through Elsa's chest, burning flesh and searing bone until there's nothing left of her.

How contrived.

"I wanted to see you," Anna says, voice easy – there can be no allusions as to what she _actually_ means. "Catch up."

And Elsa knows she can't hide much longer because she knows she can't run, not forever. Not when the direction she's going is so opposite to where she wants to be. She simply sighs and turns away, staring out the window once more and chewing on the words before she finally releases them to the wild.

"Hans is arriving tomorrow," she says, like a guard, like a shield. "He missed you at the wedding. Wanted to see you." She looks back, and Anna simply nods, an expression on her face so close to _pity_ that Elsa's heart squeezes and her bottom lip trembles, if only for a moment.

 _I wanted to see you_ , Elsa thinks, but she can't possibly voice that, not here – not in this place. So she doesn't, clamping her mouth shut until Anna leaves, neither satisfied with the conversation (though, in matters pertaining to Anna, Elsa is very rarely _satisfied_ , and only reaches that target in one specific, horrid manner).

She needs a drink.

* * *

The next she sees of Anna, of her _sister_ , is in front of the fireplace, stoking the failing embers.

"We have a heater," Anna says over her shoulder. Elsa's half a bottle in (over the course of an entire afternoon, which is not _that bad_ ) and she realises, faintly, that the sun is setting and it's growing dark; she should turn on the lights but she doesn't because the 'comment over her shoulder' becomes a 'look over her shoulder', and Elsa finds herself sinking to the sofa anyway. "All electrical."

Elsa nods. Her body trembles; every nerve tingles, and she's completely and utterly aware of every part of herself.

The last time they were sat in this room, there was nothing needed saying. The last time they were sat in this living room, they weren't really _sat_ at all, but rather standing, avoiding eye contact as the lawyer – the _suit_ – read the Will that would seal their fate.

The home, as it were, became abandoned. Neither had any use for it, nor for the memories it contained.

It seems so contrary now; the only thing Elsa seems to _have_ are memories, many of which she'd prefer to forget if only because they're so seared in her mind, her thoughts, her _body_ that she doubts she every possibly could.

Anna notices her shake, it seems, and moves away from the failing flame to sit down next to her sister. A hand rests on Elsa's knee, and it's all she can do not to inhale, sharp, and give the game away; all she can do not to continue shaking, quivering, _yearning_ to lean close and take, greedily, the warmth and tenderness that Anna always exuded – always _offered_.

"Hey," Anna says, voice a murmur. "Are you okay? It isn't that cold."

Of course it isn't. Elsa scoffs through her nose and tries not to make it obvious when she moves away, even though it clearly is and Anna doesn't even both hiding the fact she's noticed. "I'm fine," she responds. Her eyes are averted because she can't bear to look at her sister; can't bear to become _aware_ of the closeness, of the fact that she can smell her – sandalwood and vanilla – and she's so desperate to be closer that her body tenses, spasms, and her heart thuds and her naval clenches.

"It's a little chilly," she says – an excuse. _Go back to the fire_ , is what she's really saying. _Please_.

Anna has never been one to listen to common sense, though, a fact Elsa loved about her until she realised she couldn't love her, not anymore, and their entire world came crashing down.

She's never been one to listen to common sense, to leave well enough alone, and so instead of a laugh; instead of a comment about the fire, or heater; instead of _moving the fuck away_ , she does the opposite and turns more fully towards Elsa, her sister, and says, voice low and thick with an emotion Elsa is all too familiar with and hates herself for it, "I'll keep you warm."

Then, as always happens, the space between them vanishes and Elsa, suddenly, isn't cold anymore.


End file.
